


Build This Love

by iknowhowyoukiss



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Pirate Family, daddy killian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-21
Updated: 2018-06-21
Packaged: 2019-05-26 12:41:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15001103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iknowhowyoukiss/pseuds/iknowhowyoukiss
Summary: Killian spends a quiet morning with Emma and Hope on Father's Day.





	Build This Love

**Author's Note:**

> Late to post on ao3 but it's never too late to celebrate everybody's favorite pirate daddy, right? Happy (belated) Father's Day, Killian Jones!

There’s a card with his name on it leaning against a gift bag on the nightstand when Killian wakes. It makes his brows knit together, makes him blink in sleepy confusion when he suddenly notes the sunlight just beginning to creep in through the thin curtains over the window on the adjacent wall. It’s early yet, but his internal clock knows that Hope will be up and fussing very soon. He sits up, turning his head to glance at Emma’s side of the bed. It’s habit, really, but that Emma’s side is devoid of her dreaming form is not. 

She’s rarely been up before him since Hope began sleeping through the night, and he wonders briefly if perhaps their little one had simply been early to rise that morning and he’d just slept straight through her cries for attention, thus drawing Emma from their bed to see to her in his place. His eyes flit over to the baby monitor on the dresser, but Hope’s grumbling and Emma’s soft, soothing tone is nowhere to be heard over the speaker. There’s nothing out of sorts with the device from what he can see, the tiny green bulb in the corner is still lit up just as it was when he and Emma went to bed last night.

The sound in the doorway draws his attention then — floorboards creaking noisily beneath bare feet — and he is greeted by a sight that tugs on the corners of his lips as deeply as it does the strings of his heart: his wife, shuffling in through the threshold of their room with a baby on her hip and a tray of food carefully balanced on her arm.

“Happy Father’s Day,” she says in a singsong voice, eyes full of mirth and smile warm.

He grins in delighted surprise, watching her cross the room and tilting his head up to accept her kiss while she sets the tray in his lap. “Do I get one of those from you as well, hmm?” he asks Hope.

His daughter reaches for him automatically, leaning forward and smushing her face against his in the process. Killian laughs and gives her a smacking smooch to the cheek that makes her squeal. The hand-off is natural and easy between he and Emma, and with Hope safely in Killian’s arms, Emma perches herself on the edge of the bed, tucking a leg under her as she faces them.

He pushes the tray a little further down his lap, wary of his daughter’s quick and unpredictable little feet, and with another kiss to the top of her head, he turns his gaze back towards Emma. “Pancakes, eggs, bacon, _and_ a bowl of fruit? That’s quite the spread, love.”

She runs her hand affectionately over his leg and shrugs at him. “Yeah, well, we wanted to spoil you a little today.”

He hums, leaning back against the headboard with a contemplative look. “In that case, I do believe you’re forgetting something.” 

She rolls her eyes and pinches playfully at his thigh, but she holds her other hand out in front of him, conjuring a cloud of white smoke and swirling balls of light that make Hope giggle and try to grab at her mother’s magic. When it clears, there’s a mug of freshly brewed coffee in her palm.

“I didn’t forget,” she replies matter-of-factly. “I just ran out of tray space. Besides, hot beverages and squirmy babies don’t exactly mix.”

“Are you squirmy, Cygnet?” he asks, looking down at Hope and tickling her ribs to make her wiggle in his hold and elicit another peal of laughter from her. “Are you?”

She kicks then and her heel clips the tray, rattling it just enough to make Emma nudge it another inch or two down his lap. “See? Squirmy as a worm.” Emma leans over to set the coffee on the nightstand, well out of Hope’s way, then grabs the bag and the card before placing both in his lap. 

Hope’s curious fingers grasp onto one of the handles and she begins to tug at the gift bag while Killian arches a brow at his wife. 

“This is from Hope,” she explains. “There’s also a package waiting for you downstairs from Henry, Ella, and Lucy.”

The sentiment warms his insides, but the look on Emma’s face gives him pause. “And what about you, wife?” he asks after a moment. “Do you have a gift for me?”

Emma merely shrugs, but her eyes are mischievous, sultry almost, and the smirk she wears is damn near sinful. “Maybe. Assuming you get Hope to bed early tonight.”

He reaches for her hand, lifting it up so he can nip at her knuckles. “Hmm, that sounds promising. Would.... _silk_ happen to be involved?”

“Lace.”

His pulse jumps at that and his mind begins to race with thoughts of wicked, delicious intentions. “ _Delightful,_ ” he breathes. “Have I mentioned how much I love this holiday?” 

She anticipates his next move, sliding her palm away from his fingertips with a soft giggle before he can yank her forward to give her a taste of said intentions. “Uh-uh, gifts first, plundering later.”

Killian huffs dramatically, turning his eyes to Hope. “Mommy is hardly any fun, is she?”

Hope coos around the fingers in her mouth, staring up at him with wide, blue eyes. Though whether she is in agreement or disagreement, he can’t be sure. She does, however, shake the bag at him and that seems to be answer enough. 

“Ooh, outnumbered!” Emma grins.

He sighs, kissing his little traitor absentmindedly. “Too bloody early for a mutiny,” he grumbles, but he smiles as he says it, then takes the envelope in hand. 

He flips it over, pushing the flap up and easing the card out. The image on the front makes him chuckle — it’s a drawing he recognizes as Princess Leia from the Star Wars movies Emma and Henry fancy so much. The Princess wears Darth Vader’s mask while holding a lightsaber, and the caption below it reads, ‘FATHER, I AM YOUR DAUGHTER.’

“I know what you’re thinking,” Emma says. “But she picked it all out on her own, I swear. I asked, she waved her hand around, and the card materialized between her fingers.”

“Well, of course she did,” he replies, nuzzling at Hope’s head. “You’re so clever, aren’t you, sweetheart? And you know your roots too.”

“That feels like a lifetime ago,” Emma murmurs, booping Hope on the nose with another soft smile while Killian continues to open the card. 

He knows his wife’s thoughts have drifted in the same direction as his, to a ball and a dance and a different princess in a red dress. In may ways, it _was_ a lifetime ago, and they’ve been through so much since then, but he would do it all over again if it meant he still ended up right here, in this moment with them.

The card is blank on the inside, save for the scribbles in blue marker and Emma’s penmanship, translating Hope’s masterpiece — ‘ _I love you, thank you for being the best Daddy in the world!_ ’ — between parenthesis. He swears his grin is going to split his face straight in two and if it doesn’t, then surely his heart will burst in his chest instead. 

“Most of the marker ended up on her rather than in the card.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt that,” he laughs, lifting his head to look at her again. “It’s perfect, Swan. I love it.”

“Hang on, you still have to open the bag too,” she tells him, nodding at it.

He tucks the card carefully away and places it back on the nightstand before further tipping the bag towards him and Hope. Her chubby little fingers grasp at the tissue and she does a remarkable job pulling it all out for him. He watches her crumble it together and simultaneously try to tear it apart and her exuberance over the whole ordeal evokes another quiet laugh from him. Satisfied that she’s content with simply playing with it rather than attempting to eat any of it, he slips his hand into the bag.

His fingers close around wood and glass and when he draws it out, he recognizes it immediately as a shadowbox. Snow had made one for them to celebrate Hope’s birth, filling it with multi-colored origami stars that she took the time to fold after the townsfolk had written well-wishes for the baby on the thin strips of paper. They have it on a shelf in her room, a tender reminder that those who love her extend far beyond just their little family.

This one is a little different though. It’s divided into three sections, the middle housing a black and white photograph of him holding a smiling Hope. Flanking it on either side are two imprints in two rectangular pieces of clay -- one of Hope’s tiny hand and the other of her chubby foot. He stares at it for a long while, swallowing hard around the lump of emotion that’s lodged itself in his throat.

“Emma…”

“Do you like it?” she wonders, voice quiet as she chews anxiously on her bottom lip.

He reaches for her again, leaning forward while he curls his hand around her neck and pulls her towards him. His mouth closes over hers in a hard kiss and he hopes she understands what he can’t find the words to express in the firm press of his lips. 

“We love you.” Emma says, when he finally lets her catch her breath, and though she whispers it, the tone in her voice is fierce. “ _So much._ ”

“I love you both too and I’ll treasure it always,” he replies, touching his forehead to hers while his fingertips graze lovingly along her jaw so he can stroke a finger over the dimple in her cheek and thumb at the dent in her chin.

The vow is meant for far more than just the gift, and he knows that Emma understands by the way she gives him a watery laugh and wraps her arms around his neck in a tight hug.

“Happy Father’s Day, Killian,” she whispers into his ear.

Hope begins to fuss from between them but he merely presses his lips against Emma’s shoulder and cuddles them both just a little closer for just a moment more. 

(It’s his day, after all, and Emma did say they mean to spoil him.)

_Fin_

 


End file.
